


Strike First

by ChokolatteJedi



Category: Carrie: The Musical - Gore/Pritchard/Cohen
Genre: Bullying, Canonical Character Death, Childhood Memories, Children, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, High School, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28418022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChokolatteJedi/pseuds/ChokolatteJedi
Summary: Chris learned that the world wasn't fair when she was five years old, the day her Mom didn't come pick her up from Kindergarten.
Relationships: CHris Hargensen/William "Billy" Nolan
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Strike First

Chris learned that the world wasn't fair when she was five years old, the day her Mom didn't come pick her up from Kindergarten. Chris sat by the door to her classroom where her teacher, Miss Martins, could see her — the older children had chased her off the swings. Twice a week they had recess at the same time as the older children, but with the whole group of them together — Sue and Helen and Carrie and Norma and everyone — the bullies didn't bother them. Chris all on her lonesome was a target, she learned that day.

As she sat there, staring at the empty swings that no one was using, but which she still wasn't allowed to touch, Chris knew that something was wrong. Miss Martins taught them in class that they always had to share, but the older children weren't sharing. It wasn't right.

Chris pondered that the entire time she waited for Miss Martins to call her parents. Finally, an hour later, her Daddy pulled up to the driveway and Miss Martins walked Chris out to his big fancy car. Her Daddy's cars were all big and fancy, but today he was driving the biggest, fanciest one: all shiny grey and polished chrome, with sleek lines that Chris liked to trace with her fingers.

As the adults talked, Chris climbed up into the car, digging her fingers into the pale leather and rubbing the tight stitches. Daddy still had to work, he explained, so they were going back to his office. She couldn't go home with Mom, because she was still unwell — a phrase Chris would eventually learn was code for having too many lunchtime martinis with Sue's Mom at the Club and then passing out. That day, her Daddy led her past more fancy cars, and men in suits who nodded respectfully to him, and a lady in a very short skirt who later brought Chris a soda. The giant double doors increased her anticipation, and Daddy's office did not disappoint — it was _huge_! As big as Chris's playroom at home, though not as big as Mom and Daddy's room.

While Daddy did something at a bookshelf, Chris climbed into his giant chair — leather and stitching, like the car — and sat at his desk. Daddy chuckled when he saw her there, and that bolstered her enough to ask him about the swings; surely he could explain why she wasn't allowed to use the swings, even though the bigger boys weren't using them either?

His reply was burned into her brain. "Chrissy, the world isn't fair. Everyone is trying to figure out how they're better than someone else, and rub it in that lesser person's face. You've got to strike first, before they get a hit in; learn that and you're going to go far. That's why I make so much money; no one can touch you if you've got money."

* * *

By the time Chris was seven, everyone in the elementary school knew that her Daddy owned the Hargensen Dealerships chain, and that her Grandpa owned Hargensen Shipyards. No one would be getting anywhere in Chamberlain if it weren't for her family, and they'd better not forget it! None of the bigger kids messed with Chris anymore, or her friends Sue and Norma.

After _that_ day in Kindergarten, her Daddy had made a point to have more talks with Chris about how the world worked. On Fridays, when her Mom would go have lunch with Sue's Mom, Daddy would pick her up from school and take her back to his office. For her sixth birthday, she got her own fancy metal desk and stitched leather chair in the corner by the smaller window. Sitting there, she could do her homework before the weekend, or color or read, and Maggie — who had by then replaced Shirly from her first trip — would bring her a soda whenever Chris pushed a button.

Chris rarely did her homework, though, because Daddy liked to talk to her while they worked, and she loved to listen to his voice. He explained how he had built his own business like grandpa, and how he did all this for Chris, so she would never have to work so hard. He explained why you never wanted to be driving last year's car, because people would assume you wouldn't care about your appearance. Appearances were important, he told her often.

Daddy also explained often that you got nowhere by being nice. Chris had been nice to the big kids like her teacher had taught her, but they weren't nice back. She needed to make the first move, Daddy explained — strike first! — he always said.

For father's day, Chris spent the entire time at her desk coloring him a picture that said "Strike First!" with a fist and her favorite car — currently the bright yellow one. Daddy framed it and put it behind his desk where everyone could see it.

Chris also did her best to put his lessons into practice. In second grade, when Carrie got all weird in the cafeteria, Chris struck first. Soon everyone was calling her 'Praying Carrie', and Chris felt a small thrill of satisfaction whenever she heard it. She had done that! Shen she told Daddy about it that Friday, he said "That's my girl!" and made Ellen bring her _two_ sodas.

* * *

By the time Chris was thirteen, she had realized that striking first worked for _everything_. If she complained every so often about how her teachers hated her, then when report cards came in, her Daddy would blame any bad grades on them instead of Chris. He would call the school and shout, and the next day Chris would have all As.

It also, to her surprise, worked _against_ Daddy.

She had wanted makeup for her birthday — Angelique wore a lot of it, and every time she brought in a soda, Chris would stare at the bright colors around her eyes — but Daddy said no. She was still his little girl, he explained, and didn't need makeup because she was gorgeous already.

Chris didn't think he was wrong about that, but she still wanted the makeup, so she spent most of the next week trying to figure out how to get it. Eventually, she and Norma hit upon a plan. Norma stole some makeup from her big sisters, and when Daddy came to pick up Chris that Friday, Norma was sitting there with her, all made up. It wasn't perfect — it had taken the two of them nearly the entire hour after school to do it — but it was good enough.

On the way to the office, Chris casually explained how _all_ the girls were wearing makeup like Norma, and didn't Daddy care about her appearance? When they got to the office, Daddy sent Angelique out with two hundred dollars and instructions to get the best makeup money could buy, and then to come back and show Chris how to use it.

It was the first time Chris had tried to strike first against Daddy, and the fact that it had worked left her with a mixed up whirl of emotions — pleased and smug that it had worked, excited to get to wear makeup, worried that Daddy would figure out what she had done, proud that she had done what he taught her, and awed that it had worked against even Daddy! For the better part of two weeks, even as she proudly wore her new makeup to school each day, and basked in the attention from the other students, Chris worried that Daddy would finally figure it out and take everything back. But he never did.

She had gotten away with it, and that opened Chris's mind to a world of possibilities.

* * *

By the time she was sixteen, Chris was the proud embodiment of her Daddy's philosophy. She always struck first, and even as a junior she was the Queen Bee of Chamberlain High. Not even the senior girls cared to mix with her or her girls. Praying Carrie was still around, and made a convenient target one the rare occasion that Chris needed to make a point — not that she needed to often, anymore, but there had been that new girl last year who thought moving from Bangor made her special. Chris even had a handful of boys dancing to her tune, and she had finally decided to make it official with Billy Nolan.

He wasn't bright, of course, but he was malleable, and he worshiped her. Plus, he was exactly the kind of loser that Daddy complained about at dinner. In other words, he was perfect for pushing Daddy's buttons.

Chris had assumed that when she turned sixteen her Daddy would give her a new car. He _owned_ the dealership, for god's sake, and he got himself a new one every year! Instead, though her sweet sixteen had been aboard one of grandpa's yachts, there was no car waiting for her on the dock.

When she brushed past Julia and stormed into his office to confront him about it, Daddy had said something about the insurance, and how she had struggled on her driver's test and that he was worried for her safety. For Chris, it was all just excuses.

Billy had a car — kind of — he shared it with his brother, but as long as he dropped Charlie off at the shipyards before his shift and picked him up from the bar afterwards, Billy could do what he wanted with it. But Billy had a car, and if he upset Daddy enough, Chris might get one too.

So even though he was a terrible kisser, and touchy about his intelligence — or lack thereof — and argumentative, Billy was perfect.

* * *

Her senior year, Chris learned a new lesson; you might strike first, but sometimes the other person _strikes back_.


End file.
